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Never : 

A Hand-Book for the Unin- 
itiated and Inexperienced 
Aspirants to Refined So- 
ciety's Giddy Heights 
and Glittering At- 
tainments. 



MRS. MARY J. HOLME'S NOVELS 



Over a MILLION Sold 



THE NEW BOOK 

Queenie Hetherton 



JUST OUT. 



For Sale IC-v-e:r?;5r-w-Ib_e:c*e 



Price, $1.50. 



NEVER 



Never : 

A Hand-Book for the Unin- 
itiated and Inexperienced 
Aspirants to Refined So- 
ciety's Giddy Heights 
and Glittering At- 
tainments. 

" Shoot Folly as it flies, 
And catch the manners living as they rise." 
-\ ' Pope. 

By MENTOR^c#lMe|553^ 



NEW YOR]$^W wa 

COPYRIGHT, 1883, BY 

G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers. 



\ ■■■ 



6* 






9 IODDKR, 
V V. 



Prelude. 



r I ^SHIS little book is cordially recommended 
JL to all parties just hesitating on the plush- 
padded, gilt-edged threshold of our highest social 
circles. 

In purely business affairs, it may not be as 
useful as Hoyle's Games, or Locke on the 
Human Understanding, but a careful study of 
its contents ca?mot but prove the " Open Sesame " 
to that jealously -guarded realm, — good society, — 



Pre ludc. 

which you aspire to circulate freely and sliine 
coming lusti r. 

"It is easier for a needle to pass through a 
camel's eye" says Poor Richard, or someone else, 

u than for a poor young man to enter the man- 
sions of the rich.* 1 And I, the author of this 
code of warnings, as truly say unto you, that a 

contemptuous disregard of the same will be likely 
to lead you into mortification and embarrassnu 

if not into being incontinently kicked out of doors. 

While intended chiefly for the young, not the 
less may the old, the decrepit, and the infirm like- 

e rejoice in t lie possession of the rules and pro- 
hibitions herein contained, and hasten to commit 
them to memory. 



Prelude. 



But the memory is treacherous. 

It would, therefore, be well for such persons 
to carry the Hand Book constantly with them, to 
be referred to on short notice wherever they may 
chance to be — in the street-car, in the drawing- 
room^ on the promenade, on the ball-room floor ', at 
table, while visiting, and so on. 

In this way the Hand Book will be like the 
magic ring that pricked the wearer's finger 
warningly whenever about to yield to an un- 
worthy impulse. Its instructively reiterated 
" Never" will become, indeed, a blessing — not in 
disguise, but rather in guardian angels habili- 
ments. 

It will be, in truth, a bosom companion in the 



8 Prelude. 

hap. of the term, a mutely eloquent 

monitor of deportment, a still, small voiee as to 
/ is in good farm and what is not. 





Contents. 



Making and Receiving Calls 


Page 
II 


At Breakfast 


23 


At Luncheon .... 


• 31 


At Dinner .... 


• 36 


While Walking 


• 49 


In the Use of Language 


57 


Dress and Personal Habits 


• 73 


At Public Entertainments 


86 


&mmm 





Never. 



I. 

Making and Receiving Calls. 

Never, however formal your visit, neglect 
to wipe your feet on the door-mat, in 
lieu of the hall or stair-carpet. A 
private hall-way is not a stable en- 
trance. 

Never bound into the drawing-room un- 
announced, with your hat, overcoat and 
overshoes on, nor with your umbrella 
in your hand, especially if it has been 
raining hard. 



Making and h alls. 

particularly if a comparative 
str . hail your host as ,l Old Cock 

nor grab your ho i jeweled hand. 

whether i I to you or not, as if it 

were a rope's end, and you in danger of 
drowning. Neither, if other gi .re 

present with whom you have no ac- 
quaintance, prance around amongst 
them, poking them in the ribs, slapping 
them on the back, etc. True breeding 
is not synonymous with monkey capers 
ad bar-room manners. 

Never b< icy or contemptuous; but never, 
on the other hand, be fiery or too 
.miliar. Emulate neither the iceberg 
nor the volcano ; there is a happy 
medium that can be cultivated to ad- 
vantaj 

Never loll at full length on the sofa, or 



Making and Receiving Calls. 13 

bestride a chair with your elbows rest- 
ing on the back, and the soles of your 
boots plainly visible to your vis-a-vis. 
Sofas are not beds, nor are chairs vault- 
ing-horses. 

Never, even when sitting in your chair, 
tilt it far back, with your heels resting 
on the mantel-piece, and your back to 
the rest of the company present. Are 
you a gentleman or an orang-outang? 

Never, either, keep twisting and squirm- 
ing about in your chair as if sitting on a 
hornet's nest, nor keep crossing and re- 
crossing the legs every second and a 
half, nor carve your initials on the fur- 
niture with your penknife, St. Vitus' 
dance is one thing, dignified repose an- 
other. 



and Receiving Calls. 



Never, in being introduced to a lady, 
make a pun on her name, if it is a 
tiely one, or jokingly allude to rouge- 
pots and whited sepulchers, if she is no 
longer young, with an air of having re- 
ted to preservative aids. Illogical 
but intuitive, the feminine mind is swift 
to imagine and resent an innuendo where 
perhaps none was intended. 

Never, if the lady be young but homely, 
at once patronizingly remark that, after 
all, handsome is as handsome does, and 
you haw: even known the dowdiest and 
most unattractive girls make good 
matches through tact and perseverance 
However laudable your intention, tl. 
may be a muscular brother inconveni 
ently in the background. 



Making and Receiving Calls, 15 

Never attempt to sing or play, even though 
pressed to do so, if you are absolutely 
ignorant of both vocal and instrumental 
music. Effects might, indeed, be pro- 
duced, but would they be desirable ? 

Never be so self-conscious as to fancy 
yourself a cave-bear and other people 
but field-mice. " True politeness will 
betray no hoggishness, ,, as "an ancient 
writer has sagely observed. 

Never, especially with your superiors, 
buttonhole people, or shake your fist in 
their faces, or pound them in the ribs 
when you have occasion to address 
them. This is more appropriate to a 
horse auction than a drawing-room, and 
is in violation of good form. 

Never lean across one person with your 



[6 Making and Receiving Calls, 

hands Oil his knees and your back-hair 
in his face, to talk to another. 

Never bawl out at the top of your lungs, 
or try to monopolize all the talk ; you 
are neither in the stock exchange nor a 
cattle yard. 

Never, if bald and warm, mop and rub up 
your head, ears and neck with your 
handkerchief. A reception or drawing- 
room is not a barber-shop. 

Never intrude your maladies upon the 
general conversation. People cannot be 
so much interested in your bunions or 
backache as you are. 

Never violently abuse people who may 
overhear you, nor be bitingly witty at 
another's expense. 

Never interrupt the general conversation 



Making and Receiving Calls. 17 

by reading long-winded newspaper re- 
ports aloud. 

Never contemptuously criticise the furni- 
ture, the pictures, or the wall-paper as 
being cheap and mean. This is but a 
scurvy return for the hospitality you are 
enjoying. 

Never chew tobacco, or smoke a pipe at 
receptions. If you must do the one or 
the other, be sure to use the cuspidor ; 
but it is safer to let up on tobacco until 
out-of-doors, or in your own room. 

Never calumniate people, or give a false 
coloring to your statements. In other 
words, don't lie any more than you can 
help. Be diplomatic. 

Never, above all, fail in tact. For in- 
stance, don't say that the room is as 



Making and R r Calls. 

oKJ as a barn, even if you think so. 
Tact and tact may not always go hand- 
in-hand 

Never interrupt or contradict overbear- 
ingly, or with a sort of snort. Either 
of these faults is directly opposed to 
the canons of good society. 

Never be explosive or pugnacious, accom- 
panying your side of an argument with 
roaring explosives and furious gesticu- 
lations. A lady's parlor is not a bear- 
arden. 

Never, on the other hand, be cowering 
and sniveling, as though desirous of 
some one to kick you as a boon. In 
deportment, the demeanor of the rabbit 
is no more to be emulated than that of 
the famished wolf. 



Making and Receiving Calls. 19 

Never, in the midst of a discussion upon 
solemn topics, retail antediluvian jokes, 
and then ha, ha ! boisterously at them 
when no one else can see anything to 
laugh at. In fine, don't be an unmiti- 
gated bore. 

Never gape, yawn, " heigh ho," or stamp 
your feet disapprovingly, when others 
are talking. This is blighting, if not 
fairly irritating. 

Never be unduly " stuck up." Because 
you are yourself^ is no reason why you 
are William H. Vanderbilt or George 
Francis Train. 

Never sulk and growl under your breath, 
like a bear with a sore head, because 
you fancy yourself neglected. Brighten 
up, and even snicker, rather than adopt 



Making and Receiving Calls. 

this gloomy course. Moroseness is dis- 
piriting. 

Never even murder a persistent bore 
until you get outside. To send for the 
police might cause an inconvenience. 

Never, if playing cards with ladies, spit on 
your hands when dealing, or mark the 
bowers and aces with pencil-marks or 
knife-punctures. Englishmen would be 
especially horrified at such a proceed- 
ing. 

Never rave, tear your hair, or swear there 
has been cheating all around, even if you 
have lost ten cents on the game. Either 
bear your losses with equanimity, or 
never gamble. 

Never treat aged and venerable persons 
like budding hoodlums, or make riotous 



Making and Receiving Calls. 2 1 

fun of their wrinkles or their bald heads. 
You may be old yourself, some time, if 
not assassinated for your bad manners. 

Never neglect to give precedence to ladies, 
both on entering and quitting a room. 
A brutal disregard of this injunction 
might cause you to be led out by the 
ear. 

Never, as hostess, insist that a casual 
caller shall send for his trunk and stay 
a week or two. 

Never, as host, ask him hilariously if he is 
well over his last drunk, and getting 
primed for another. This is not in good 
taste. 

Never hurry your* departure, as if your 
legs were sticks and your body a sky- 
rocket. 






- and Receiving Calls. 



Never, on the other hand, tarry from, say, 

four in the afternoon till three in the 
morning. A light, flying visit is one 

thing; taking root another. 




II. 
At Breakfast. 

Never descend to the breakfast-room 
without having washed your face and 
brushed your hair. Cleanliness is a part 
of good breeding. 

Never appear at breakfast, even in sultry 
weather, without your coat, waistcoat, 
collar and necktie. Are you a gentle- 
man or a Hottentot? 

Never, even in winter, take your seat at 
the table in your top-boots, with your 
overcoat buttoned to the chin, and with 
a sealskin cap drawn down to your eye- 



24 At Breakfast. 



brows. But if you arc breakfasting in 
nz Josef s Land, this warning may 
be disregarded 

Never fail to help the ladies first, before 
gorging ever)- edible in sight. You will 
thus cultivate a reputation/or self-abne- 
gation that may stand you in stead. 

Never, if a guest, inspect the butter suspi- 
ciously, smelling and tasting it, and then 
say, " Pretty good butter — what there 
is of it!" Never, having perceived 
your blunder, hasten to rectify it by 
calling out, " A)', and plenty of it, too — 
such as it is ! Ha, ha, ha ! w Better ab- 
stain from criticism altogether, since 
nothing is costing you anything. 

Never insist on starting this meal with 
soup. Cazuela, or breakfast soup, is a 



At Breakfast. 25 



Spanish-American custom that has not 
yet been imported. 

Never, before expressing your preference 
for tea or coffee, ask your hostess which 
she would recommend as the least 
poisonous ? She might not consider the 
insinuation as complimentary to herself. 

Never dispose of eggs by biting off the 
small end, throwing the head far back, 
and noisily sucking them out of the 
shells. A spoon, or even a fork, is pref- 
erable. Besides you might encounter 
a bad one when too late. 

Never wipe your nose on your napkin, or 
use it in dusting off your boots on rising. 
Napkins have their legitimate uses, 
handkerchiefs theirs. 

Never, on finishing with your napkin, 



26 At Breakfast. 



fastidiously fold it away in its ring, nor 

carelessly hang it. on the chandelier. 

Use judgment in little things. 

Never cool your tea or coffee by pouring 
it back and forth from cup to saucer and 
from saucer to cup in a high arching 
torrent, after the manner of a diamond- 
fastened bar-tender with a cocktail or 
julep. There's a time and place for 
everything. 

Never suck your knife contemplatively, 
and then dive it in the butter-dish. This 
is wholly indefensible. 

Never use the butter-knife in besmearing 
and plastering your bread with butter 
an inch thick. Better tear up the bread 
in small chunks, and sop up the butter 
with it. 



At Breakfast. 27 



Never cut meat with your teaspoon, sip 
tea from a fork, or painfully suggest 
sword-swallowing by eating with your 
knife. Try to appear civilized. 

Never convey the impression that you are 
shoveling food down an excavation 
rather than eating it. Cultivated people 
eat, barbarians engulf. 

Never smack the lips and roll the eyes 
while masticating, accompanying the 
operation with such expressions as, 
" Oh, golly, but that's good!" " Aha, 
that touches the spot ! " Give your 
neighbors a show. 

Never reach far over the table with both 
hands for a coveted morsel. Ask for it, 
call a servant, or circulate around the 
table behind the other breakfasters' 
chairs. 



At Breakfast. 



Never shake your list at the waiters, or 

swear at tluan in loud and imperious 
tones. This is not the best form even 
in a restaurant. 

. vr pounce on a particular morsel, in- 
tended for an invalid, like a hawk on a 
June-bug, First, say to yourself reflect- 
ively, " Am I in a private breakfast- 
room or a barn ? " 

X ver try to dispose of beefsteak, peach- 
jam and coffee at the same mouthful. 
Failure, complete and ignominious, will 
be the result. 

Never, if at a tenth-rate boarding-house, 
insist upon having broiled game. In 
the bright lexicon of the boarding-house 
there's no such word as quail. 

Never, unless you are John L. Sullivan, 



At Breakfast. 29 



indicate your irritation by upsetting the 
table, or shying muffins at the landlord. 
Equability of temper and a good appe- 
tite should go hand in hand. 

Never fail in urbanity with those around 
you. Loud squabbling, fighting with 
the feet under the table, and open rivalry 
for the smiles of a pretty waitress are 
altogether alien to the higher culture. 

Never make a pretense, on quitting the 
table, of mistaking the napkin for your 
handkerchief. This is an old, old 
dodge. 

Never stretch yourself, gulch, gape and 
yawp on rising. You should have fin- 
ished all that in bed. 

Never refer to the meal you have disposed 
of under the generic name of "hash." 



50 



At Breakfast. 



The commonness of this fault does not 

excuse: it. 

Never fail in bowing gracefully when 
abandoning the table, and, in lighting 
your cigar, never strike a match on 
your hostess's back. Be keenly observ- 
ant of your well-bred neighbors, and 
you will at last learn to avoid these 
little breaches of etiquette that are so 
painstakingly enumerated for your cul- 
tivation. 




III. 
At Luncheon, 

Never become notorious as that most un- 
fortunate and reprehensible of mortals 
— the Lunch Fiend. If at a pseudo 
free-lunch, drink something at the bar 
first, if only a glass of water. 

Never gorge at a luncheon, as if there 
were never to be a dinner-hour. A 
gentleman is never supposed to be rav- 
enous. 

Never indiscriminately mix your liquors 
at this hour. A little whisky or brandy 
as an appetizer, with not more than four 



At Luncheon. 



varieties of wine while eating, and top- 
ping off with a few mugs of beer, should 
quite satisfying. 

Never, if at a fashionable collation, discuss 
business, politics or abstruse scientific 
problems with the fair creatures present. 
Sink the shop, if only for ten minutes. 

Never jocosely give wrong names to well- 
known dishes before you. To denomi- 
nate breaded cutlets 44 fried horse," cold 
corned beef u mule-meat," and sliced 
tongue "larded elephants' ears/' may be 
humorous, but hardly in keeping with 
the light festivities of the occasion. 

Never, if ignorant of certain dishes, at- 
tempt to denominate them at all. If 
found palatable, eat and ask no ques- 
tions. 



At Luncheon. 33 



Never fail to let a lady sip out of your 
glass, if she entreats you to that effect 
You can secretly throw away the con- 
tents afterward, but a direct insult was 
not embodied in the request. 

Never refuse to hold a lady's saucer of 
ice-cream for her, and feed her with a 
spoon, at her earnest request. This 
betrays a guileless trust in you that 
should be esteemed as complimentary. 

Never be detected in surreptitiously stuf- 
fing your pockets with raisins, fruit-cake 
and peanuts. It will not be so much 
the theft as the detection that will cause 
the honest blush to mantle in your virile 
cheek. 

Never attract a lady's attention by play- 
fully signaling her across the table with 



At Luncheon. 



melon-rinds or banana-peeL To trun- 
dle a napkin-ring straight over into her 
lap were in better taste. 

Never regale the company with detailed 
descriptions of similar repasts that you 
have enjoyed in Pekin, but where puppy- 
dog roasts, rat-pie and sharks' fins were 
the most appetizing features. Though 
roars of laughter reward your recital, 
you are not now in the antipodes. 

Never give in in a contest over a favorite 
turkey-bone with a spoiled child of the 
family. Even if his howls shatter the 
frescoes, never forget that you are his 
senior, hence his superior. 

Never feed your hostess's favorite cat or 
lap-dog at the lunch-table, by setting 
the pretty creature on your shoulder, 
and tossing up scraps to him between 






At Luncheon. 35 



your own mouthfuls. This may be art- 
less, but is not in the best taste. 

Never neglect to quit the table after all 
the other guests have retired. To con- 
tinue gorging and guzzling in solitary 
state is to make a show of yourself to 
the menials. 

Never fail, when you have at last fully 
decided to give the repast a rest, to 
quit the room easily, though with a dig- 
nified air. To dance away with a hop, 
skip and a jump, while trolling out " a 
careless, careless tavern-catch," or with 
painful grimaces, while convulsively 
clutching the pit of the stomach with 
both hands, is to hint a reflection upon 
the hospitality you have enjoyed. This 
might subject you to unflattering com- 
ment. 



IV. 

At Dinner. 

NEVER forget that this is the repast par 

excellence. 

Never, as an invited guest, be more than 
two hours late. Your host and hostess, 
as well as the other guests, may have 
starved themselves for a fortnight for 
this particular gorge. 

Never, in handing in a lady, struggle des- 
perately to pass through the dining-room 
dooway two abreast, if said aperture 
admits but one at a time sidewise. 
Even if it break your proud heart, give 
the lady precedence always. 






At Dinner. 37 



Never sit six feet off from the table, nor 
yet so crunched up against it as to 
cause you indescribable torture. Well 
within feeding distance, with ample 
elbow-room for knife-and-fork play, is 
your safest rule. 

Never tuck your napkin all around under 
your collar-band, nor make a child's bib 
of it. You are not in a barbers chair 
nor at a baby-farm. 

Never suck up your soup with a straw, 
nor, with your elbows on the table and 
the plate-rim at your lips, drink it down 
with happy gurgles and impetuous haste. 
Go for it with a spoon for all you are 
worth. Never ask for more than a 
fourth service of soup. 

Never bury your nose in your plate, while 



38 At Dinner. 



using your kiiifc, fork and spoon at the 
same time, after the manner of Chinese 
chop-sticks. Maintain as erect an atti- 
tude as you can without endangering 
your spinal column, though not as if you 
had swallowed a poker. 

Never exhibit surprise or irritation, should 
you overturn your soup in your lap. 
Rise majestically, and while the waiter 
is wiping it off, calmly declare that you 
were horn under a lucky star, since not 
a drop has spattered your clothes. 

Never snap off your bread in enormous 
chunks, to be filtered and washed down 
by gravy or wine. Rather than this, 
crumb it off into pellets, to be skillfully 
tossed into the mouth as occasion may 
demand. 



At Dinner. 39 



Never ram your knife more than half-way- 
down your throat. Hack with your 
knife, claw up with your fork ; that is 
what they're made for. Never take up 
a great meat-slice on your fork, and 
then leisurely nibble around the corners, 
making steady inroads till your teeth 
strike silver. This is a method rigidly 
interdicted among the highest cir- 
cles. 

Never eat fish with a spoon, if the silver 
butter-knife can be appropriated for that 
purpose. 

Never eat as if you had bet high on get- 
ting away with the entire banquet in six 
minutes and a half. This may be com- 
plimentary to the viands, but is some- 
what vulgar. 



40 At Dinner. 



Never, when the champagne begins to 
circulate, snatch the bottle from the 
waiter's hand, hang on to the nozzle, 
tilt up the butt, and ingurgitate for dear 
life, while approvingly patting your 
stomach with your disengaged hand. 
This is little short of an enormity. 

Never devour spinach with a mustard- 
spoon, spear beans with a w r ooden tooth- 
pick, or mistake the gravy for another 
course of soup. Take your cue from 
such of your neighbors as appear least 
like ho^s. 

Never clean up and polish off your plate, 
as if it were a magnifying lens, before 
sending it for a second installment. 
There are scullions in the kitchen, or 
ought to be. 






At Dinner. 41 

Never spit back rejected morsels on your 
plate, nor toss fruit-stones under the 
table, nor hide fish-bones under the 
ornamental center-pieces. An obdurate 
piece of gristle should be bolted at all 
hazards, fruit-stones may be dexterously 
transferred to your neighbors plate, and 
fish-bones may be cleverly utilized as a 
garniture for the salt-cellars and butter- 
plates. 

Never hurry matters when fully half- 
gorged, when there is a ringing in your 
ears, and things begin to swim before 
your eyes. These are warnings to taper 
off slowly, in preparation for dessert. 

Never adhere wholly to champagne 
throughout the repast. A few glasses 
of claret as between-drinks, with now 



42 At Di)incr. 



and then a quencher of brown sherry, 
afford an agreeable variety. 

Never forget to occasionally look after the 
lady under your care. She may, more- 
over, be useful in passing you dishes 
during the temporary vanishings of the 
servant. 

Never attempt a flirtation, or even a sus- 
tained conversation, during the repast. 
Gastronomy is a noble but jealous mis- 
tress, who permits no division of your 
allegiance. 

Never, when dessert is served, wade into 
the jellies and riot amid the tarts and 
cakes as if you were just getting up 
your wind for a fresh onslaught. Be 
moderate. 

Never ask for a soup-plate of ice-cream. 



At Dinner. 43 



It is better form to have your saucer 
replenished again and again. 

Never talk when your mouth is fairly 
crammed, nor in a smothered, wheezy 
tone of voice. It is more dignified to 
bow blandly, point to your mouth in ex- 
planation of your predicament, and wag 
your head. 

Never be so pre-occupied with drinking as 
not to be on the look-out for the lady 
under your care. She has a right to her 
share of the liquids. 

Never be embarrassed. Retain your self- 
possession if you are choking. 

Never forget your own wants under any 
circumstances. Remember that self- 
respect is as much of a virtue as respect 
for others. 



44 At Dinner. 



Never be self-conscious. Guzzle quietly, 
and let others take care of themselves. 

Never, on the other hand, push self-depre- 
ciation to the wall. Never lose sight of 
the fact that, while you are a gentle- 
man, you are also an American sovereign 
feasting at some one else's expense. All 
sovereigns do that. 

Never, if called upon for a toast, be afraid 
to pledge yourself. It you don't blow 
your own trumpet, who will blow it for 
you ? 

Never use your fork for a tooth-pick, nor 
the edge of the table-cloth for a napkin. 
Summon a servant, and make known 
your wants in imperious, stentorian 
tones. 

Never lounge back in your chair, and 



At Dinner. 45 



request the waiter to pour wine down 
your throat, if too unsteady to longer 
hold a glass. This is apt to be notice- 
able. 

Never rest both elbows on the table, while 
shuffling your feet nervously underneath 
it, and trying to steer one more glass to 
your lips. If paralysis threatens, request 
to be led out. 

Never lose your temper. "When a man 
has well-dined," says an old playwright, 
• " he should feel in a good humor with 
all the world." 

Never fail to rise when the ladies are 
leaving the table, and to remain stand- 
ing somehow, no matter how unsteadily, 
until the last petticoat has disappeared. 
Then, your duty having been performed, 



46 At Dinner* 



you can roll under the table, if you want 
to, or see-saw back to your anchorage, 
and see if you can hold any more wine. 

Never drink too much wine. True, there 
are a variety of opinions as to how 
much is too much ; but be prudent, be 
resolved, never make an exhibition of 
yourself, at least try to knock off before 
being paralyzed, and be happy. 

Never, however, yield to the jocular pro- 
pensities of your brother guests. Should 
they prop you in a corner of the room, 
with your hair drawn over your eyes 
and a lamplighter in your mouth for a 
cigar, and then jocosely vociferate 
11 Speech ! speech !" heroically reach for 
the nearest bottle, back with your head, 
and guzzle away. A philosopher, a 



At Dinner. 47 



real gentleman, will never be laughed 
down, sneered under, or rubbed out. 

Never, if called on for a speech in a com- 
plimentary way, however, make a 
rostrum of the table at which you have 
dined. Rather essay your own chair, 
the window-sill, or even the mantel- 
piece. 

Never fail in courtesy, even when grossly 
intoxicated. Apologize, even if you 
have slumbered on your neighbors 
shoulder, and murmur your excuses even 
while disappearing under the table. An 
exponent of high breeding never forgets 
to be a gentleman under the most ad- 
verse circumstances. 

Never whistle, sing ditties, or jeer irrele- 
vantly while another guest is responding 



48 At Dinner. 



to a popular toast. You surely should 
not wish to monopolize the entire 
oratorical effects of the occasion ; and, 
moreover, boorish interruption is always 
in equivocal form. 




V. 

While Walking. 

Never fail to maintain a firm but easy 
attitude. The willow, not the light- 
ning-rod, will afford you the best sug- 
gestions. 

Never walk over people, but around them. 
Men and women are not stepping-stones 
or door-mats, save to monarchs and 
rich corporations. 

Never neglect to apologize if you stamp 
on a man's corns, or jostle him into an 
excavation. 

Never howl with laughter at any pecu- 



So While Walkin 

liarity of aspect, manner or dress. Be 
a gentleman always. 

\« «r crush and shoulder your way 
through groups of ladies at shop-win- 
dows, with your cane menacingly twirled 

aloft, shillelah-fashion. Analogy b 
tween a fashionable promenade and 
Donnybrook Fair is wholly apocryphal. 

Never smoke in the street, unless you can 
afford a good article. Chinese cigar- 
ettes, long nines, and black cutty pipes 
are decidedly in bad form. 

Never, if you must smoke, whiffle your 
smoke in others 1 faces, or playfully burn 
them in the back of the neck, or ask a 
lady for a light. Walter Raleigh, the 
father of tobacco-using, even carried his 
own cuspidor. 



While Walking. 51 



Never munch nuts or gorge fruits in 
public. A lady or gentleman on the 
afternoon promenade, with a peeled 
pineapple in one hand, a huge slice of 
watermelon in the other, and the jaws 
industriously working, is not an edify- 
ing spectacle. 

Never forget, if with a lady, that she is 
under your protection, not you under 
hers. 

Never rush her past an oyster-saloon at a 
run, or wildly distract her attention 
from a confectioner's window. As a 
woman, she has her privileges. 

Never drag her, pell-mell, with you through 
a mob of fighting roughs. 

Never forget to be kind, even while feign- 
ing deafness to all insinuations as to 



52 While Walking. 



refreshment. " Kindness Izan instinkt," 
says Josh Billings, "while politeness iz 
only an art." 

Never neglect to give her at least a por- 
tion of your umbrella, when escorting 
her through the rain. If it should rain 
cats and dogs, as the saying goes, an 
adjournment beneath an awning, or 
front-stoop, might be deemed advisable. 

Never, if walking with a tramp, introduce 
him to ever}; acquaintance you chance 
to meet. It is a free country, but the 
line must be drawn somewhere. 

Never, if you have occasion to address a 
strange lady, scrape, cringe and wriggle 
before her in an agony of politeness. 
To raise your hat gravely, place your 
hand on your heart, and yield her a low, 



While Walking. 53 



sweeping obeisance, with your shoulders 
shrugged considerably higher than your 
ears, is sufficient. You are not sup- 
posed to be a Corean ambassador in 
the presence of Jay Gould. 

Never address questions to strangers in- 
discriminately, especially as to their 
secret and private affairs. Communica- 
tiveness is not a necessary outcome of a 
total lack of sodality. 

Never, even in questioning a policeman, 
fan him with his own club, note down 
his number, and ask him if he has yet 
got the hair off his teeth. Though in 
livery, he may yet be above the brute 
creation. 

Never ask questions at all, but consult 
this Hand Book. 



54 While Walking. 

Never, if suddenly confronted on the 
promenade by a hostile acquaintance, 
accept his proposition to fight him in 
the gutter for a pot of beer. You are 
not a Prize Fighter. 

Never forget to pick up n lady's handker- 
chief, if she lets it fall by accident ; not 
with effusive familiarity, but daintily on 
the end of your cane or umbrella. Com- 
mon civility is one of the cardinal points 
of good breeding. 

Never pick it up at all, if she drops it pur- 
posely. You needn't set your foot on 
it, or scowl at her ; but coquetry is one 
of the vices deserving of silent re- 
proof. 

Never pick up anything that even your 
companion may drop, unless he should 



While Walking. 55 



be very drunk. You may pick him up 
also, if he should drop. 

Never, even if in haste, rush through a 
crowded thoroughfare at a breakneck 
gait, with your hair flying, your necktie 
over your ears, and shouting " Clear the 
track ! " at every jump. Hire a cab, or 
obtain roller-skates. Repose of man- 
ner should never be sacrificed to emo- 
tional insanity. 

Never pose on street corners, attitu- 
dinize before show-case mirrors, or 
whistle an opera bouffe air while 
watching a funeral cortege. 

Never, if with a lady, ask her to wait for 
you on the curb while you step into an 
adjacent bar-room to see a man. The 
ruse is a transparent one, and, more- 
over, she may be thirsty herself. 



56 While Walking. 

Never hilariously address a stranger with 
an obvious defect of vision as u Squinty," 

nor ask another how many barrels of 
whisky it has taken to paint his nose. 
Such familiarities may possibly be re- 
sented. 

Never, on the other hand, be so over- 
civil as to be mistaken for a dancing 
master or a bunco-steerer. 

Never forget that a gentleman is a gentle- 
man everywhere. Even McGilder was 
occasionally taken for one. 

Never have your shoes polished in the 
middle of the sidewalk while hanging 
on to an awning-beam for support. It 
may create the impression that all the 
polish you have is upon your shoes. 



VI. 

In the Use of Language. 

Never cease trying to make yourself un- 
derstood. Learn to read and write 
before you are of age. 

Never pronounce with your teeth clenched, 
through the nose, or by ripping up the 
sounds laboriously from the pit of the 
stomach. Speak gently, but with 
clarion-like distinctness. 

Never squeal like a rat, grunt like a pig, 
or roar like a bull. Cultivate a pleasing 
voice. 

Never smother your meaning out of sight 



5^ /// the Use of Language. 



with slang. "Soup should be seasoned, 
not red-hot/ 1 says an old writer. 

Never swear, anathematize, or fairly dri] 
with profanity, especially in the presence 
of delicate ladies and small children. 
Undue emphasis often defeats itself. 

Never indicate a mere passing surprise by 
such expressions as "Holy smoke!" 
" Gosh almighty ! " " I'm teetotally 
dashed ! " and the like. A mere lifting 
of the eyebrows, a convulsive gasp, or a 
wild, staggered look, while smiting the 
forehead with the fist, will be demon- 
strative enough. 

Never say sir to a bootblack and old chap 
to a minister of the gospel in the same 
breath. Exercise tact. 

Never say u No, mum" or " Yessum," in 






/;/ the Use of Language. 



59 



addressing a lady, or " Not much, old 
hoss," or " yezzur," in speaking to a 
gentleman, even if these chance to be 
your parents or near relatives. " No, 
dad/' "Yes, mommy," "No, granny," 
" Yes, nunksy," and so on, are more 
affectionate. 

Never address a young lady 2& Jen., Mol., 
Pol.y Bet., Suke., or by any other ab- 
breviation of her given name. Miss So- 
and-so, or plain miss, is in better form. 

Never address a young married lady as 
old girl, even if you were intimate with 
her before her marriage. Her husband 
may not apprehend your facetiousness. 

Never mispronounce. Never say purtect 
for protect, yer for you, tater for potato, 
this 'ere for this here, tommy toes for toma- 



6o /// the Use of Language. 

toes, voilent for violent, aborgoyne for 
aborigine % or busted for burs ted. u Take 
her up tenderly, lift her with care." 

Never say kin for ean, thcyse for they W, 
feller for fellow, gal for ^zW, ze/#£ for K/dtf, 
whar for where, thar for there, har for 
>Wr, //£z/ for //#z^, ze/#// for o/z//, £<y^ for 
co7cld, nor ze/#i/ for ivould. Never 
imagine that ignoramuses only fall into 
these errors. The greatest scholars in 
the world have been known to fairly 
revel in them when suffering from 
delirium tre?ne7is, or otherwise off their 
guard. 

Never forget that duty rhymes with beauty, 
not with booty, and that morn doesn't 
rhyme with dawn at all — poetasters to 
the contrary notwithstanding. Even a 






In the Use of Language. 61 

gentleman of the world will not wholly 
despise the soft demands of rhythm. 

Never say idear for idea, nor wahm for 
warm. The addition of the r in the one 
case is as indefensible as its omission in 
the other. 

Never say pants for trousers, vest for waist- 
coat, boiled rag for shirt, nor tratter cases 
for boots and shoes. As a sole alterna- 
tive, let your language be choice to 
fastidiousness. 

Never allude to a cuss, meaning a man. 
JLvenpure cussedness for sheer contrariety 
is becoming the property of the com- 
mon herd. 

Never say "the old woman," alluding to 
your wife. Is marriage of necessity 
the grave of respect ? 



62 In the I r se of Langua K 

Never speak of your father as "the 
governor/ 1 "the old man," "the money- 
bag," and the like. Perhaps, he is a 
very good sort of person. 

Never say castor for hat, wox gun-boats for 
overshoes, nor duds for e lot lies in general. 
A multiplication of these synonyms may 
be creditable to the invention, but is 
apt to be confusing. 

Never fear to say you are szck f if you are 
so. Englishmen are li ill, and French- 
men are at liberty to be indispose. We 
never say "an ill room," or "an indis- 
posed bed," but "a sick room" or 44 a 
sick bed," as the case may be. 
\evcr ask if the railroad has come in, but 
if the train has come in. The track can 
no more come and go than can the 
station itself. 



In the Use of Language. 



63 



Never pile on the adjectives. A painting 
may be meritorious without being 
" stunning ;" a handsome wall-paper is 
not necessarily " excruciating ; " and 
you should hardly call a choice dish 
of ham and eggs "divine." Let not 
your enthusiasm overleap itself. 

Never say naw, 7iixy, not by a blamed sight, 
nor nary a lime, for pure and simple no. 
Let the negative be swift, clear and 
decisive, even in declining a drink. 

Never say yis, yaw nor ya-as, for yes, 
unless you swear by the shamrock, the 
Bologna sausage, or the roast beef of 
old England. 

clever say that you believe you'll take 
root or come to anchor, when you in- 
tend sitting down, nor say "squatty- 



64 In the Use of Language* 



vous " to a friend in requesting him to 
take a scat. 
Never, if you must use slang, fail to make 

a judicious choice of it. Who was it 
said, " Let me but make the slang of a 

people, and he who will make their 
laws?" But no matter; since there is 
plenty of it ready-made. Never attempt 
to add thereto, but be content to sepa- 
rate the wheat from the chaff, the fine 
gold from the dross. 
Never speak of a bar-room as " a h'istery," 
"a whisky ranch/' " a rum-hole," or "a 
jig-water dispensary." Plain old Anglo- 
Saxon t4 gin-mill" must, hold its own 
against the innovations of storming 
time- 
Never, in speaking confidentially to a 



In the Use of Language. 65 

young lady of her fathers tippling 
habits, refer to him as " an old soaker/* 
"a rum-head," "a guzzler," "a peram- 
bulating beer-keg," or " a happy-go-lucky 
old swill-tub." Far better to slur mat- 
ters gently by recommending an inebri- 
ate asylum, or suggesting that the old 
.gentleman be locked up with a whisky- 
barrel, with a fair chance of his drink- 
ing himself to death. 

Never, at social gatherings, speak of 
elderly ladies as " old hens," nor of the 
children of the house as " kids." But 
a careful study of the very best society 
will soon make these pitfalls apparent 
to you. 

Never, in entreating a young lady to sing, 
ask her if she can't chirp or twitter a bit. 



66 In the Use of Language. 

Never, after she has sung, and with ob- 
vious effort, playfully suggest that she 
lias a bellows to mend. To gaze into 
her eyes lingeringly, and whisper that 
you did not mean to knock her endwise, 
would be more considerate and soothing. 

Never say, smeller, horn, bugle y or snoot 
for nose. Never say peepers for eyes, 
potato-trap for mouth, nor bread-basket 
for stomach, at least not in the very 
highest circles. Olfactor l optics and 
paunch are a choice disguise for the 
Queen's English, if that is the end in 
view. 

Never say that a man was " howling mad " 
or "jumping crazy," meaning that he 
was very angry, when you have such 
tempting morsels as "hopping mad,'' 



In the Use of Language, 67 

"frothing at the mouth," "mad as a 
hatter," and "crazy as a bedbug" at 
your disposal. 

Never say, " Well, I should smile," mean- 
ing that you assent to something said 
or proposed, when honest old " You can 
bet your boots I will " is coyly nestling 
near at hand, craving a caress. 

Never ask, " How in am I going to 

do it?" when silvery "Do it youself, 
and be blowed !" may lend a mingled 
suavity and conciseness to the situation. 

Never say, "busted in the snoot" for 
"thumped in the proboscis." This is 
wholly inexcusable. 

Never say " I seed" for " I saw," " I heerd" 
for "I heard"- or "I thunk" for "I 
thought." Notwithstanding that these 



68 /;/ the Use of Language. 

gross mistakes may be in vogue among 
highly-educated men, newspaper editors 
and professional linguists, erect a stand- 
ard of your own rather than follow in 
their unworthy lead. 

Never say, " Him an' me is goin' to the 
circus," when " He and I arc going to 
the circus " is meant. This scarcely 
perceptible inaccuracy brings many a 
conscientious student to grief. 

Never say, " They is well, but I are not." 
Painstaking discernment will enable you 
to make the correction. 

Never say "Between you and I and the 
pump-handle," meaning " Between you 
and me." 

Never speak of dinner as "grub," " hash " 
or " trough-time," nor refer to the dessert 
as u an after-clap." 



In the Use of Language. 69 

Never, if you have been on a spree, allude 
to it as a " boose," a " toot," a " twist," 
a " rolling big drunk," a " bust," or a 
"bump," when strong, sensible " budge," 
" bender" and " jamboree" are peeping 
wistfully from the catalogue. 

Never proclaim that you are "chocked to 
the throat," meaning simply that you 
have dined plentifully. 

Never be afraid to call a spade a "spade," 
even if you have bet on hearts or dia- 
monds. 

Never, if intoxicated, say that you are 
"weaving the winding way," " slopping 
over," "six sheets in the wind," or 
" screwed." The latter is wholly British, 
and not yet adopted with us. 

Never repeat worn-out saws and proverbs, 



7)/ the Use of Language. 



such as " It's a long turn that makes no 

lane/ 1 " It's an ill wind that blows your 
hat off," and the like. Better use your 
own invention than harp forever on a 
moldered string. 

Never, moreover, repeat much-used quo- 
tations, no matter how celebrated they 
may once have been. u We have met 
the enemy and we are theirs," and 
" Whoever undertakes to shoot down 
the American flag, haul him on the 
spot," may be patriotic, but they wear)', 
they weary ! 

Never call a pretender a " cad," when 
either "fraud" or " dead-beat" can 
safely give odds to the importation. 

Never allude to your time-piece as a 
" cracker," a " turnip " or a " ticker," nor 



In the Use of Language, ji 

to your hands as <4 mawlies," " fins " or 
" flippers," nor to your fingers as 
" digits." The use of any one of these 
slang terms indicates a want of higher 
culture. 

Never, in referring to an enemy, say that 
you will " put a head on him bigger 
than a bushel-basket," merely meaning 
that you will punch him. 

Never say "peart" for clever 

Never say oncommon for uncommon, nor 
comment upon a delicacy by saying 
that it is "licking good." 

Never say, in commenting upon a lady's 
appearance, that she looked like a 
"fright," like a "frump," or like "a 
bundle of bones tied up with rags." 
You have "dowdy" and "scarecrow" 
to fall back on. 



72 In the Use of Language* 

Never wish aloud that a man may be 
hanged, drawn and quartered, simply 
because he owes you a dollar and a 
quarter. Fiendish resentment is not 
one of the shining characteristics of* a 
true gentleman. 

Never, when in doubt as to any particular 
form of expression, fail to consult this 
Hand Book. It is the one faithful 
lamp by which your steps may be 
guided. 




VII. 

Dress and Personal Habits. 

Never forget to wash yourself and brush 
your hair (if you have any) before 
quitting your room in the morning. 
To make your toilet at the kitchen sink, 
or even at a convenient fire-plug, is to 
set the canons of good society at 
naught. 

Never re-appear in the morning with a 
dirty shirt, a crushed hat, and with your 
necktie under your ear. This might 
convey the impression that you had 
gone to bed in your clothes. 

Never be filthy in anything. Cleanliness 



74 Dress and Personal Habits, 

is a virtue that even a recognized 

gentleman cannot afford to hold in 
contempt. 

Never appear in other than subdued 
colors, for the most part. " Give me 
plain red and yellow," said the negro 
minister, in his advice to his flock on 
the vanities of dress. 

Never wear anything over-dainty. Never 
— of course, we are now addressing the 
male reader, for whom this invaluable 
Hand Book is chiefly designed — wear 
anything that the gentler sex have made 
exclusively their own. To appear in 
public with a nosegay in lieu of a 
throat-stud, or even with a sunflower at 
the waist, would be likely to excite 
remark. 



Dress and Personal Habits. 7 5 

Never wear check-shirts, children's dickies, 
nor 'longshoremen's jumpers. An im- 
maculate shirt-front with a clean collar 
to match, is always en regie. 

Never wear full evening dress in the 
early morning, especially if you intend 
working in the garden, or whitewashing 
the back fence, before going down town. 

Never wear dancing pumps in rainy or 
snowy weather, or arctics if it is warm 
and fine. But long-continued observa- 
tion will finally enable you to discrimi- 
nate for yourself in these minor matters. 

Never appear among ladies with your 
boots covered with mud, and your whole 
person suggestive of having been rolled 
in the gutter. If you haven't a servant 
or wife to clean you up, undertake the 
task yourself, however distasteful. 



76 Dress and Personal Habits. 

Never wear your hat tilted far over your 
nose, with a cigar meeting its brim at a 
rising angle of forty-five degrees from 
your lips. The Volunteer Fire Depart- 
ment, though once the arbiter of manly 
deportment, is a thing of the past. 

Never wear pinchbeck jewelry, loud breast- 
pins, nor steel, silver or washed-gold 
watch-guards. Secret-society regalia, 
conspicuously w r orn, and multitudinous 
finger-rings are also in questionable 
taste. 

Never walk with a high-and-mighty stud- 
horse gait, nor yet slouch and slink 
along as if you had robbed a hen-roost, 
nor yet with a bounding hoop-la sort of 
prance, like a clown in the circus-ring. 
Never, either, walk bow-legged or club- 



Dress and Personal Habits. jj 

footed, if you can help it. Cultivate a 
grand, regal, easy and flowing carriage, 
but without swagger or bombast. 

Never walk, especially if in haste, with 
your arms folded, nor with your hands 
in your coat-tail pockets. 

Never improvise tooth-picks out of fence 
splints, and then chew them industri- 
ously in public. Tobacco and chewing- 
gum still assert their claims. 

Never expectorate all around you at every 
step you take, without an instant's in- 
termission. If you are troubled with 
bronchitis, remain at home. If the 
same old drunk persistently lingers, try 
a B. and S., or a gin fizz, according to 
your judgment. 

Never whistle like a locomotive, nor at- 



78 Dress and Personal Habits. 

tempt a Tyrolese jodel^ while walking 

with a lady or ladies on a fashionable 
promenade. 

Never whittle sticks, play on a jewsharp, 
or essay to catch flies on window-panes 
in public. Such recreations, innocent 
in themselves, should only be pursued 
in the privacy of one's own apartment. 

Never permit the quality or cut of your 
wearing-apparel to deteriorate, if you 
have to live on pork and beans to keep 
up your end in this regard. " Never 
retrench in your wardrobe expenses, 
whatever you do," said old Samuel 
Pepys. M All the world knows how you 
appear, but no one need know how you 
live/ 1 A frequent change of residence 
might serve to disconcert the tailors, 
should they prove troublesome. 



Dress and Personal Habits, yg 

Never allow your shoes to run down at the 
heel, nor out at the toes. Nothing is 
more incongruous than a fine gentleman, 
in other respects quite the swell, with 
his foot-leather burst out around the 
instep, his stocking heels wabbling up 
and down at every jump, and his bare 
toes courting the public gaze. 

Never hiccough or sneeze without inter- 
mission, unless greatly inebriated. In 
this dilemma, lose no time in drinking 
yourself sober, or in seeking temporary 
retirement, if only on a park-bench. 

Never let your lower lip hang down on 
your breast, like a motherless calf's. 
" Put up or shut up," says the Coptic 
proverb. 

Never, on the other hand, strew up your 



So Dress and Personal Habits. 



lips under your nose, as though con- 
stantly subjected to an overpowering 
odor. Even a prevailing ecstatic, attar- 
of-roses haunted expression is in prefer- 
able form to.this. 

Never fail to keep your nose clean. If 
you have no handkerchief, use your 
coat-tail. 

Never cultivate a broad, teeth-husking 
smile, unless your ivories are in good 
order. Tobacco-stained fangs are at an 
especial disadvantage in this form. 

Never fail to cleanse the teeth at least 
once a week. A tooth-brush is best. 

Never wear your hat in church, in a 
boudoir, nor at a marriage or burial 
service ; never, on the other hand, take 
it off when overtaken by a blizzard or a 



Dress and Personal Habits. 8 1 

cyclone. If neither the blizzard nor 
the cyclone does that much for you, 
you may consider yourself fortunate. 

Never doff your hat nor make your bow- 
indiscriminately. A Cyrus Field, for 
instance, would be justified in expecting 
greater courtesy than would be accorded 
to a Jesse James ; though, if cornered 
by one of the latter type on his own 
stamping-ground, it would doubtless be 
well not to slight him too conspicu- 
ously. . Be diplomatic. 

Never fail to cultivate an off-hand judg- 
ment of men and women who are 
strangers to you. A man with a head 
like a monkey's is not necessarily a 
savant ; nor are putty-like faces, with 
idiotic lips and China-blue eyes, in 



82 Dress and Personal Habits. 

women, necessarily Elizabeth Cady 
Stantonesque in intellectual scope and 
oratorical brilliancy. You would scarcely 
mistake Red Leary for Herbert Spencer. 

Never carry a lighted cigar into a millinery 
store or powder-magazine. 

Never be over servile to good clothes for 
themselves alone. The professional 
thief who lost his life in a double tragedy 
in Sixth avenue not long ago, was one 
of the best dressed men in New York. 

Never, on the other hand venture to 
indiscriminately despise slovenly dress 
in men or women. Lady Burdette- 
Coutts is said to occasionally slouch 
around London like a charwoman just 
for the fun of the thing ; good old 
Steve Girard was wont to dress like a 



Dress and Personal Habits. 83 

music-master in distress ; and some 
greasy, old, garlic-smelling tatterde- 
malion at your elbow may be one of 
the most successful pawnbrokers of the 
Hebraic persuasion. 

Never burst, without notice, into any one's 
private apartment like a shot out of a 
gun. Even your excuse that you want 
to borrow your car-fare may not be 
mollifying, and people have nerves. 

Never keep gnawing your mustache, 
twisting your whiskers into fantastic 
braids, nor making your hat wag about 
on your head through muscular contrac- 
tion of the scalp. 

Never crackle your knuckles with sharp 
reports, grit your teeth, heave deep,* 
wheezing sighs, nor keep running your 



84 DtiSS and Personal Habits. 

fingers through your hair till it stands 

Up like a brush-heap. If you imagine 
one or all of these feats to be uniquely 
interesting, hire out to a dime museum. 

Never take any more drinks in the early 
part of the day than are absolutely 
necessary to brace you up. Three 
cocktails as eye-openers, followed by 
two in the way of appetizers, ought to 
straighten you up before breakfast, 
and, if not already a slave to tippling, 
a dozen beers or so ought to satisfy you 
between then and noon. If tempted to 
overdo the matter, recall the wax group 
of the Drunkard's Family in Barnum's 
old museum, set the teeth hard, and 
shut down, shut down ! 

Never forget to say your prayers before 



Dress and Personal Habits. 



85 



going to sleep, if it is in accordance 
with your religious convictions. 
Never fail to have convictions of some 
sort. A man without any is like a cat 
shelling walnuts. Would you be a non- 
entity, a dolt, a jackass, or a gentleman 
of distinction, a man of parts, a power 
in the land ? 





v^ 



r 



S^^S^^V^x 




VIII. 

At Public Entertainments. 

Never, if escorting one lady or several, 
scuffle and bandy oaths with ticket- 
speculators at a theater-entrance. Cul- 
tivate an easy hauteur of manner. 

Never, under like environments, offer to 
bounce the attendant policeman, boots, 
blue-coat and buttons, if he will only 
drop his club. Your ladies may object, 
if the policeman does not. 

Never, upon entering, seize an usher by 
the throat, rub your coupons into his 
eyes, and loudly demand your seats or 



At Public Entertainments. 87 

his life. A public entertainment is not 
a rat-baiting. 

Never retain your hat and take off your 
coat and waistcoat at theater or opera. 
To shed the tile and retain the garments 
is in better form. 

Never whistle, guffaw or make boisterous 
comments during the rendition of pa- 
thetic scenes. Consistency's a jewel. 

Never testify your approbation by pro- 
longed roars, cries of " Hear, hear !" 
tossing your hat in the air, and making 
quartz-crushers of your feet. Moderate 
your transports. 

Never express your disapproval by furious 
catcalls, by pelting the performers with 
stale eggs, or by vociferated injunctions 
to "choke 'em off," to "burn the crib," 



88 At Public Entertainments. 

or to "run down the rag." A pro- 
nounced sibilation, accompanied by 
judicious barkings, will answer quite as 
well. 

Never, even if slowly murdered by the 
orchestra, betray your sufferings by 
idiotic grimaces, violent contortions and 
dismal groans. Remember Talleyrand, 
who could have smiled his unconscious- 
ness even if stabbed in the back. 

Never jocosely shout out u Fire ! n if a red- 
haired lady should rustle into a seat in 
front of you. Incendiarism is the legit- 
imate mission of stump-orators and fire- 
bugs. 

Never bring your opera-glass to bear like 
a siege-gun, with your lips spread open 
as over a Barmecides free-lunch. Even 






At Public Entertainments. 89 

a harsh gritting of the teeth, during the 
operation, is not in the best taste. 

Never hold it for a lady to look through, 
while adjusting her line of vision by the 
back of her head, and advising her in a 
hoarse whisper as to the best method 
for "gunning" her object.. Are you at 
the opera or the race-course ? 

Never loudly discuss politics, divorce suits 
or ministerial scandals at the theater or 
at a concert when the performance is 
going on. If speech is silver and silence 
golden, discussion at such times is 
metallic to annoyance. 

Never, if compelled to quit the building 
before the entertainment is finished, 
pass up the aisle on all fours, to avoid 
an interruption. Siamese obsequious- 



qo At Public Entertainments. 

neSS is out of place ill wcll-brccl audi- 
ence's. 

Never, at the close, hump your way 
boorishly through the well-dres 

throngs, or expedite an exit by flying 
leaps over the backs of the seats. Even 
a break over the stage would be prefer- 
able to this form. 

Never, after a brief adjournment to the 
open air, apologize to the lady under 
your escort with a profuseness that will 
render the cloves, burned coffee or 
smoked herring too apparent on your 
breath. Better confess at once to a gin- 
sour, and be done with it. Frankness 
and rankness rhyme but in materiality 
where truth is at stake. 

Never send flowers to the sta^e in a 



At Public Entertainments. 91 

market-basket, or bombard a diva with 
bouquets bigger than a cooking-stove. 
The language of flowers should appeal 
to the inner sense. 

Never enter a crowded auditorium with 
your thumbs in the arm-holes of your 
waistcoat, head thrown back, chin in 
air, and the stub of a cigar between the 
teeth. Self-consciousness may be pushed 
to an extreme. 

Never lunch between acts, in full view of 
audience, on cheap sandwiches, peanuts 
and ginger-beer, even if you have missed 
your supper. Secretly tighten your 
waist-band, and think of Baron Trenck 
and his fortitude in prison. 

Never blow your nose with a loud trump- 
eting during an especially interesting 



92 At Public Entertainments* 

scene, or while a difficult aria is l> 
sung. A fanfare is not necessarily in 
sympathy with a tremolo. 

Never, if with a lad}', individualize the 
features of a ballet A grinning reti- 
cence in this regard is more delicate. 

Xever attempt to join in with the chorus, 
even at a negro minstrel show. Even 
burnt-cork has its privileges. 

Xever permit a lady to pay for the tickets 
at the box-office. If you havn't any 
money, don't go. 

Never, on seeing a lady home, hint that 
ice-cream and oyster-saloons are danger- 
ous places at night, the common resorts 
of tramps, thieves, prize-fighters and 
penniless adventurers. Veracity is one 
of the characteristics of high breeding. 



At Public Entertainments. 93 

Never, if her residence is closed for the 
night, leave her on the stoop, while you 
go for a policeman to batter in the door. 
Ring the bell, and wait. 

Never say, in wishing her good-night, that 
she has cost you a pot of money, but 
that her society was something of an 
equivalent. If she really esteems you, 
she will have inferred as much. 

Never criticise her conduct during the 
evening, even if it may not have come up 
to your standard. Respect her amour 
propre. 

THE END. 



A GREAT HIT. 



A Naughty Girls Diary 



BY 



AUTHOR OF 



"A Bad Boy's Diary. 77 



FULL OF FUN. 



Never : 

A Hand-Book for the Unin- 
itiated and Inexperienced 
Aspirants to Refined So- 
ciety's Giddy Heights 
and Glittering At- 
taininents. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



005 812 353 5 » 



